Roxanne Rustand - Montana Mistletoe

“No problem.” She scooped up two small bowls of the snow ice cream and watched the girls as they savored their first bite.

When she handed Jess a bowl, his hand grazed hers and he felt the warmth of her touch, which went straight through him.

She must have felt the same, because she abruptly turned away and he saw the tips of her ears turn pink.

“So, what do you girls think?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

Enraptured, they finished their ice cream and eyed the big mixing bowl hopefully, but Abby just smiled. “No more right now—you can have some more after dinner.”

They scampered off to the living room. Abby covered the bowl in foil and jockeyed it into the freezer.

“I haven’t had snow ice cream since my mom died,” Jess said as he tried a spoonful. “She always said a heavy, fresh snowfall was a blessing and we should never waste it. There was never a winter when she didn’t keep plenty of cream and vanilla on hand—and the sugar, of course.”

“It does look good. Out here, with no pollution—not even any neighbors—the snow is perfect. Even so, it has to be really deep, and I would never use it the next day.”

“No problem there. I think we’re up to fifteen inches already and it’s still falling.”

“Are we drifted in?”

“Definitely, until the snow stops and I get out the big John Deere. But I hear the wind is going to be high all night, so there’s no point until tomorrow.”

He snagged one of the chocolate-chip cookies from a plate on the counter. “Did you get them to help you with cookies, too?”

“No... We haven’t quite made our peace, but the prospect of the mysterious snow ice cream drew them in.”

“I’m glad the girls are doing better.”

Abby suddenly lowered her voice. “You do know why they were upset, right?”

Jess frowned. “They were expecting their mom, but you were the new arrival instead.”

“Partly. They really do love you, Jess, and they want to stay here. But they want their mom to come back and marry you so that can happen.”

Jess felt his jaw drop. “Marry Lindsey ? She’s my cousin. And not only is she way younger, she’s pretty immature for her age.”

Abby tilted her head in agreement. “They’re worried that I might get in the way of their plans. They’re also worried about some lady with black hair who seems to want to marry you, too. Apparently they overheard something Grandma Betty said about that, and they don’t like this woman much. I believe they take offense to her calling them vegetables .”

Aghast, he stared down at her. “I don’t have any idea who they’re talking about.”

“My only guess is that she might have said something like they’re two peas in a pod.”

He rolled his eyes. “Must be Maura. She’s an old friend who lives in town. We usually see her at church.”

“Apparently you see her often enough that the girls are afraid wedding bells aren’t far off,” Abby teased. “Just thought you’d like to know.”

“It’s true that we dated now and then over the years. But when the twins arrived she said she wanted nothing to do with ever being a secondhand mom and that was the end of it as far as I’m concerned.”

“No wedding bells, then.”

“No. A few months ago she said she’d had second thoughts, but she’d already shown her true colors. Those girls deserve better.”

He’d forgotten how easy it was to talk to Abby. Back when they were dating, they’d ridden together for hours and had never been at a loss for conversation. They’d talked for hours up in the hayloft at the ranch or her dad’s.

Lost in thought, he absently took a bite of the cookie in his hand. Still-warm chocolate chips, white-chocolate chunks, toasted walnuts and pecans, all magically held together in a buttery-crisp cookie, melted in his mouth.

He slid her gaze over to her in awe. “Did you make these back when we were dating? If so, how could I have forgotten?”

Her smug smile made him laugh out loud.

“No. I spent years on a search for the most perfect chocolate-chip cookie ever and finally started combining recipes and tweaking ingredients on my own. What do you think?”

“If these aren’t perfect, I don’t know what is.” He eyed her speculatively. “Sooo...do you share recipes? Say, like this one?”

“Only with my very best friends. So I’ll have to do some very serious thinking on where you stand. But in the meantime, I’ll make them whenever you want while I’m here.”

He thought for a moment. “I seem to remember you warning me that you weren’t a good cook. During our interview.”

“I think I said I wasn’t really a gourmet cook, but hoped no one would starve. There’s a difference.”

He found himself feeling at peace for the first time in way too long, and realized it was because Abby was here again, in this kitchen—with her sparkling eyes and delicious cookies and silvery laugh, her warmth and compassion and all of the things that hadn’t been in his life for a long time.

He dragged a tired hand down his face as a sudden weariness settled over him like a heavy mantle.

“You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet, Jess.” She rested her small hand on his arm. “Go. Clean up and rest awhile. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

He hesitated, feeling there was something important he needed to say, but the words just didn’t come.

Then he stumbled off to bed to close his eyes for just a few minutes before dinner...

Until a terrified scream awakened him at three in the morning.

Chapter Five

Startled by a scream, Abby jumped out of bed, threw on her robe and flew out into the hall, belatedly realizing she’d forgotten slippers. The floor was cold.

The house was dark. Totally dark. No glow of moonlight filtered through the blinds. Not even the night-light in the hallway was on. And the wind was even stronger now, battering the house with unrelenting force, rattling the shutters and scraping branches against the windows. It sounded as if some unknown creature was trying to break in.

The faint beam of a flashlight bobbed through the living room, and then Jess appeared in the hallway in a faded T-shirt and jeans, his haggard face a mask of concern.

A low, keening cry came from the twins’ room.

“It’s Sophie,” he said in a hushed voice. “The power just went out and she’s terrified of the dark.”

It was no wonder, with what the poor child had been through back in California when she and Bella were left alone overnight.

He pressed his fingertips against the door to the girls’ room. “Sweetheart, it’s me,” he whispered. “Uncle Jess. Can I come in?”

“It’s dark ,” she wailed. “I need my light.”

Abby waited at the open door while he set the flashlight on the bedside table so it illuminated the ceiling and softly lit the room. Bella stirred sleepily under her blankets, then rolled away from the light.

Jess picked up Sophie and sat on the edge of her bed, smoothing back her tousled hair. “Everything is fine. We’ve just got a snowy night and the power will be out for a while.”

“Can’t you fix it?” She turned her tear-streaked face up to look at him. “Please?”

“I just called the power company and they said it might be a couple hours.”

“But Gramma has lights we can use. She said so.”

“I don’t feel safe using her candles or kerosene lamps when we’re asleep, honey. Would you like to keep my flashlight?”

Her lower lip trembled. “I want you to stay. And I want our puppy back. Can you get him?”

He considered it for a moment. “Now that Abby is here to help us and Grandma’s home, I’ll go get him as soon as I can.”